


The Courting

by misch3fbunni3



Series: Pre-Icarus Rebirth: Seductions, Temptations, Encounters, and Betrayals [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alpha Team, Bravo team - Freeform, Capture the Flag, Flirting, Hilarity, Humor, Injury, M/M, Mustaches and Sunglasses, Pastry abuse, S.T.A.R.S. (Resident Evil), Sarcasm, Shenanigans, Snowball Fight, Teambuilding, Teasing, Wesker Plays Hard to Get
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:20:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25517944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misch3fbunni3/pseuds/misch3fbunni3
Summary: The antics between Chris and Wesker leading up to the events in Encounters.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker
Series: Pre-Icarus Rebirth: Seductions, Temptations, Encounters, and Betrayals [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868527
Comments: 28
Kudos: 52





	1. The Urinal

**Author's Note:**

> These do not follow any logical order, just pre-relations.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker realizes what Chris is trying to do and approaches him about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured this would be a first good chapter. It didn’t feel right putting these into my Desecration Drabbles, so here “The Courting” has its own space. 
> 
> I should really be doing homework, but I am the world’s biggest procrastinator, so this happened instead.

The first time Chris did it, Wesker really didn’t pay it too much mind. But when he did it a second, and third, and fourth time, Wesker knew Chris was fucking with him.

They had been working together a little over a year. The entire Alpha Team had settled in quite well together and worked almost seamlessly, give or take the typical office antics, with Chris being one of the top antagonists.

But this was different. This was intentional targeting of the blonde. Chris’s direct superior. And it took Wesker a while to realize what the younger man was doing and when he finally did figure it out, he really was unsure how to go about processing it.

Chris was courting him.

The brunette was testing the boundaries of what he could and couldn’t get away with when others were around and when he was alone with Wesker. Should he call the younger man out on what he was doing and tell him to stop? That it was inappropriate?

Wesker wasn’t actually put off by the actions. Once he figured it out, he found it exciting and even arousing at times, to see how far the brunette would test the waters. But Wesker was genuinely unsure how to proceed, and he already had a lot on his plate with their office and Umbrella and his other plans.

Should he indulge the younger man? Should he push him away and quell the fantasy then and there? Should he respond positively and tease the other man back? Should he entertain in what was so blatantly being offered?

The first few times he did it, Chris had sauntered into the restroom seconds after Wesker and took the urinal right next to him. The bathroom being entirely empty save for Wesker and the brunette each time. Chris completely ignored the glare when the blonde shifted his eyes over at him. Finishing, Chris turned, washed his hands, and left, leaving the blonde to stalk the brunette’s retreating back in the mirror.

It was the fifth time in roughly two weeks. Now Wesker turned his head completely to stare at the brunette who was using the urinal directly next to him, again, the restroom empty except for the two of them. Noticing the hidden glare as Wesker’s ever-present shades were immaculately in place, Chris turned towards the blonde slightly and smiled devilishly as he looked down at Wesker’s crotch, which was still undone, the blonde still holding himself. Snapping his eyes back up, Chris winked at the blonde with an impressed glint, which Wesker took in stride, but kept the same impassive expression, save a slight upturn of one lip in response.

Chris’s grin widened even more. Returning his eyes to his own crotch, Chris tucked himself back in his pants and turning toward Wesker who was looking down and doing the same, whispered close to the blonde’s shoulder, “It’s on.”

Stepping away quickly as chatting officers entered the restroom, Wesker couldn’t even make a retort as Chris quickly washed his hands and rushed out.

Returning to the STARS office, Chris and a few of the others were packing up for the day. Wesker still not having a chance to approach the brunette and not wanting anything to go any further without him having a say in it, Wesker approached Chris’s desk, who glanced between him and the other team members nervously, afraid Wesker would call him out in front of the others of what he was trying to do.

Leaning his fists down to hunch over slightly on the opposite side of Chris’s desk, Wesker drawled, “About your proposition, Redfield.” Chris gulped loudly, his face reddening, and sweat broke out on his temples. Smirking, Wesker wanted the younger man to stew a bit as he straightened to his full height and crossed his arms over his chest, “You may certainly well try. I’m not going to stop you from achieving your goals, but don't expect any help from me either. You're just going to have to put a lot of extra effort in.”

That being said, and without another glance at the brunette, Wesker walked back to his office, completely missing the gaping jaw that had dropped and comically surprised expression gracing the younger man’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wesker’s going to play hard to get.


	2. The Pencil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris teases Wesker with a pencil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the hilarity commence.

Wesker sighed as he took his sunglasses off and placed them on his desk to rub his face with both hands. With it being summertime, more people were out and about in Raccoon City, which meant increased criminal activity and STARS assisting the Racoon City Police Department with some of the overflow of cases. The paperwork increasingly necessary to cover their asses just in case of any lawsuits.

Looking through his blinds, he stared at his team. Most were diligently writing their own reports, some were eating lunch, and then there was Chris. Not surprised in the least bit, the brunette had been staring at him through the other side of the blinds, trying to balance a pencil across his upper lip by making a duck face.

Staring intently back and squinting his eyes, Wesker could not help but mouth out, ‘What the fuck are you doing, Redfield?’

Smirking but losing his balance on the pencil, Chris deftly caught it before it could clatter on his desk. Sweeping the room with his eyes at Alpha Team to see if anyone was paying attention, and of course, everyone was busy with their own work.

Chris returned to stare back at his captain, slowly bringing the back of the pencil into his mouth where he ran the eraser head across the inside of one cheek to press it outward in an obscene gesture, then did the same to the other side, then slowly pushed said pencil further into his mouth and pretended to gag on it.

Wesker’s expression was priceless. The blonde’s pale eyes widened, having forgotten that he had taken his sunglasses off. Irritation and complete shock were written across Wesker's face at Chris’s ministrations, but not disgust, which made Chris smile around the pencil that was mostly shoved in his mouth.

Wesker sucked in a seething breath as he watched Chris slowly bring the pencil out of his now open mouth, pressing it down against his tongue, which he curled around the lacquered wood. The pencil entirely out of his mouth, Chris bit the eraser end between his teeth and pressed his tongue against it, which Wesker could barely see the pink through the brunette’s slightly gapped teeth.

Wesker flushed slightly, which caused Chris to laugh silently, his shoulders shaking, trying not to bring the attention of his teammates to his antics. Clenching his teeth in anger, Wesker slammed his hands on his desk, causing the focus of his team to be brought on him. Startled more than the rest, Chris dropped his pencil on the floor. Wesker scooped his sunglasses up and replaced them over his eyes as he stood up, his chair screeching obnoxiously.

Grabbing a random magazine off his desk, he rolled it up, and keeping as straight of a face as possible, strolled around his desk and out into the main STARS room, heading directly for Chris, who was now panicking and fidgeting in his seat.

Stopping directly next to the brunette, Wesker clenched the rolled-up magazine in his fist that was resting at his side. Chris put his hands up and leaned as far away as he could in his chair, pressed up against his desk, a surprised fear grin on his face, eyes wide, not expecting such a reaction out of his captain.

Wesker stood menacingly in such a way, Chris could see the pale eyes under the sunglasses staring piercingly down at him.

And Wesker continued to stand there, staring down at the younger man, expression unchanging. No one in the office said anything but stared intently, waiting to see what would happen. Chris was always getting yelled at for his antics and put in charge of meaningless extra duties. Like cleaning the clean gas masks or removing, counting, and replacing the same rounds in the spare magazines in the weapons locker, or polishing all the brass nameplates in the entire RPD station. The last one took Chris all day.

Wesker waited until Chris relaxed his posture to lean back slightly in his chair when the blonde didn’t do anything. Still staring down at the brunette, but with a now shining playful glint in his eyes that he knew the brunette saw, because Chris tried to dodge as he swept the rolled magazine up to slam into the back of the brunette’s head, jerking the head to the side and hopefully hitting him hard enough to smart for a while.

Wesker smirked down at the now frowning brunette who cradled the back of his abused head. Suddenly turning on his heels, Wesker made his way back into his office and in a stern drawl, chastised the younger man, “Stop being weird Chris and get back to work.”

Everyone was still silent and looked back and forth between the two and wondering what the hell just happened. Sitting back down at his desk and staring at the brunette who had a pinched look about his face, his head obviously smarting, Wesker grinned and reached over to pull the blinds shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't a full-sized pencil, Chris probably would have accidentally killed himself if it was. And who would have thought pencils could be so sexy.


	3. The Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris gets too handsy in the shower/locker room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No clue on the # of showers, I haven’t had time to play the new remakes and my RE1 Remake and Zero are on the Gamecube. Assuming the layout from RE2: Remake image map.

The small locker room that was down the hall from the STARS office had an extended shower room with four shower stalls. Not the best set up for privacy, the stalls were only separated by a chest-high barrier and no curtain. Curtains would have been reasonably cheap to install, except Chief Irons spent exorbitant amounts of the RPD’s budget on his personal hobbies of collecting disturbingly inappropriate artwork and taxidermized animals.

After a brutally hot day, and after chasing some drug dealers that had been running their operations from a private garbage truck company, half the team somehow found themselves covered in some kind of muck, including Chris and Wesker.

After helping the regular RPD officers process the perpetrators, most of Alpha Team opted to go home for the day. Except for Wesker, who still had work to do and decided to use the showers available before having to complete the inane amounts of paperwork for the day. It was what the showers were there for after all.

Wesker was already halfway through his shower, using the stall closest to the bench room doorway since he was the only one there. Usually, he would be in one of the far stalls to not have his back to anyone—a remnant habit from his time in the military, eyes on everyone, and all exits.

Abruptly, he heard the locker door open and close. Turning his head towards the open doorway, he looked to see who had the same idea he did, as almost everyone had gone home.

Not seeing anyone as there was another doorway between the benched area and the taller personal lockers, he shrugged returning to his shower and scrubbed fiercely as whatever the muck had been, did not come off easily.

Suddenly, Wesker felt a hand run across his lower back, close enough to brush over the crack of his ass and as he swiveled, he caught the backside of Chris Redfield making his way to the adjacent shower, turning it on and proceeding to scrub down, ignoring the defensive posture of his captain and pretending he did not just almost grab the older man’s bare ass.

Slightly tilting his head back, he gave Wesker a dark look, smirking and resumed his showering. Wesker, not trusting the brunette, finished his shower quickly, keeping an eye on the younger man who kept peeking over his own shoulder to get a glimpse of the tall, pale well-defined frame of the older man, which would prove too curious for his own good.

Finishing, Wesker dried off quickly and wrapped his towel around his waist to step out to the bench area and through to the tall personal lockers. Groaning, he realized that if Chris finished his shower soon, he would have to walk past Wesker to get to his locker. The brunette had wandering hand syndrome, as this was not the first time the younger man had touched him, though he was increasingly getting more and more daring where he laid his hands.

Which of course, as Wesker was pulling his trousers up, the water in the other room stopped, and he could hear the other man toweling off. Quickly leaning over, Wesker made haste to get his socks and boots on. However, he was not fast enough as this time, a wandering hand fully grabbed one full ass cheek. Wesker wrenched himself upright and away, pressing his back against closed lockers and flushing slightly pink in furious irritation, he hissed, “You are too bold, Redfield.”

The owner of the offending hand jumped to the side to make his way down to his own locker, grinning like a Cheshire cat with his bottom lip clenched in between his teeth in a playful gesture, hands raised up like he was under arrest, a silent admission of his guilt.

Now keeping his back away from the brunette who started dressing and kept up his obvious observation of the blonde, Wesker finished tying up his boots and still facing Chris, pulled his undershirt over his head to tuck into his pants before doing up his button, belt, and fly.

Chris must have thought they were having a staring contest because now, only clad in his boxers, turned to dress and outright stared intently at the older man, exaggerating his movements as he dressed, especially making the gesture of tucking his shirt into his pants by running his hand over his crotch.

Enticing as the younger man’s show was, Wesker could not help but follow the hand, and as he did so caught the brunette grab himself tightly a brief moment before doing up his pants slowly, where he could see a slight bulge.

That was Wesker’s cue to leave. Throwing his button-up shirt on quickly, not even bothering to button it, Wesker grabbed his pistol and slid the holster onto the waist of his pants and belt, making sure it was secured tightly. Flicking his eyes up sharply to make sure Chris did not get any closer, the blonde grabbed his wallet and phone and jammed them hastily into his back pocket.

Unfortunately, he would have to pass by Chris to get to the exit, and with an evil smirk, Wesker had just the perfect parting gift to give the brunette that he would be thinking of the rest of the day and perhaps even the next. Closing his locker door, Wesker sauntered over to the younger man who had been slowly getting dressed all the while eyeballing him but was now standing up straighter and slightly puffed his chest out as the menacing blonde stepped towards him, the evil smirk still plastered on his face.

Before Chris even knew what had happened, pain blossomed in the side of his right thigh and spread outward to encompass his entire leg, causing the muscles to spasm violently. The younger man cried out loudly and sucked in a tight breath of air at the sudden unimaginable pain, and within seconds of the exploding spasming of his muscles, he was being held up and slammed harshly against the lockers, one of the door handles digging into his back, and of course, it had one of those obnoxiously large padlocks on it.

Chris cringed his head to the side and shrank back slightly from the bared teeth that were surrounded by a tight unfriendly smile. Intense eyes full of aggression bore down into the younger man’s pinched but defiant expression. Wesker was impressed. Despite his blessing of what most certainly was the Charlie horses of Charlie horses to the younger man’s thigh, Chris still held albeit a tiny bit of ground and some dignity in that defiant expression, regardless of the pained eyes that were slightly glassy.

Now smirking, Wesker leaned closer to graze his lips just barely against the brunette’s ear, “I bite.”

Leaning back, Wesker dropped the smirk to morph back into his normally stoic expression as he let go of the brunette who fell heavily to the floor with a loud grunt, banging his head against the lockers, the spasming muscles unable to hold up his weight without assistance.

Wesker quickly stepped over the prone body and made his way to the door when he heard Chris call out his name in a tight voice. Turning, Wesker acknowledged the younger man by glaring intently, his irritation very evident. Chris looked up with deep heated eyes and ran a tongue along his lower lip, moistening the skin and then pulling it between his teeth as he grabbed his spasming thigh tightly with one hand.

Sighing, but not relenting in his irritation, Wesker provided some encouragement, “Perseverance is a virtue.” With those parting words, he stepped out of the locker rooms to resume his never-ending paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris deserved it. You don't grab the boss's ass and get away with it without some kind of repercussion. With Wesker being a badass martial artist, he would know exactly where to hit to cause the most pain, but not damage.


	4. The Burger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris helps Wesker with his lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets a little messy.

Wesker was in the middle of eating his lunch and working on paperwork when Chris sauntered in and plopped himself down right next to his unwrapped half-eaten burger. Wesker eyeballed said burger as it was precariously close to the brunette’s resting ass.

Wesker stared up at the brunette with slight curiosity, who gazed back down with an annoyingly innocent expression on his face. Wesker was unsure what the younger man might have up his sleeve, because nowadays, Chris always had something wedged up in there to try and rile up the older man.

Slowly, Wesker pulled the meal towards him and away from the ass on his desk. Deciding that this was the best course of action in the instance Chris forgot the burger was there and ended up knocking it off his desk. This way he would not have to beat the other man senseless.

Now grabbing the burger to save it from any further fate, Wesker took an exuberant bite causing some of the ketchup and mustard to squish into the corner of his mouth. Before Wesker could dash his tongue out to wipe the condiments away, one of Chris’s hands shot out and wiped the mess away with a forceful index finger, enough to tilt Wesker’s head slightly to the side, and then popped the now-mess covered finger into his mouth, leaving it there to lavish the taste with a skilled tongue. Chris’s innocent expression now heated as he popped the now clean finger out of his mouth to grin proudly that he got one up on the older man.

Wesker was frozen in shock at the audacity of the brunette, and even though he wore sunglasses, his wide eyes were still very apparent. Wesker quickly darted them out through the mostly closed blinds to see if anyone was looking, which of course, no one was, caught up in their own lunches. Glaring at the brunette now, and in a tight voice, “Is there anything **else** I can help you with, Christopher?”

Still grinning, Chris playfully shook one dangling leg from his haphazard perch, “No, I think I just about covered it. Though there is just a tiny bit more…” And he reached out to wipe away any lingering remnants of the mess, but his hand was smacked loudly, and he snatched it back to closely cradle it to his chest, massaging it with his other hand, a hurt pout replacing the grin.

Wesker scowled, “Good. Now get the fuck out of my office so I can eat in peace.” And with a huff, Chris slid off Wesker’s desk and slouched out, still petting his smacked hand as he sat at his desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait for it. Chris will get his.


	5. The Donut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker gets Chris back for the burger incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets messier.

There was a STARS meeting in 15 minutes, and Wesker was still trying to compile some notes that he would need to brief on their missions for the day helping the RPD officers with their caseload. Suddenly, he heard the main door open, and someone quietly made their way in. Stalking the figure through his mostly closed blinds, of course, it was Chris Redfield who had somehow gotten ahold of pastries and was now sitting at his desk stuffing his face with what looked to be a sugar-covered jelly donut.

Chris obviously didn’t realize Wesker was in his office, or he would have been up the blonde’s ass all the while munching on the commandeered prizes. With an evil glint, Wesker decided it was payback time for Chris messing with his lunchtime a few days earlier.

Slowly making his way to his doorway, he watched Chris just about polish off his first donut. Very carefully, he stalked closer to the younger man, all the while wondering, ‘For the love of God, how is he not noticing me!’ Sometimes the brunette was just daft in his own little world.

Just as Chris was taking another bite out of the second donut, Wesker reached out and clasped his hand tightly over the brunette’s, causing the donut to gush whatever red flavoring the pastry contained all over Chris’s face, shirt, and crotch.

Rightfully startled with a look of utter terror at being caught, literally red-handed, Chris stood up hastily and backed himself up against the wall next to his desk, chair toppling over in the process, the mess still being grasped in both their hands to slide down Chris's arm and drip on the floor as Wesker had yet to release his grip.

Sweeping his other hand up, Wesker dabbed a bit of jelly that had made its way onto the brunette’s chin and plopped it into his mouth. Making a face of absolute euphoria around the finger, Wesker hummed, and finally releasing his grip on the mess of Chris's hand, proceeded to glare darkly at the still incredibly startled brunette as he started to lick what had made its way onto his fingers. Sucking on each digit like he was in heaven and making a noise of utter delight, Wesker asked, but not really expecting an answer, “Fuck this is delicious, what is this flavor?”

Still startled, Chris blinked, and he could only observe the blonde who stepped back to make his way towards the door, licking his fingers and making little sounds of enjoyment. Just as he got to the door, he turned, grinning, “You should clean up, you have…” and looking down at his watch, “less than five minutes to get to the briefing.” Still humming, Wesker opened the main STARS door and made his way to the briefing room without another glance back, leaving Chris to stare down in horror at the mess Wesker had made of him and his clothes.

.....

Already five minutes late, but with a mostly clean face and fresh clothes, Chris slunk into the conference room, silently fuming, and looking like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You’re late, Redfield.”

Jerking his head up to look at his captain with a deadpan expression, “Sorry, sir. I somehow found myself slathered in a jam.”

Wesker keeping his stoic expression, retorted, “Well then, at least you clean up nice. As I was saying…”

But Chris droned out whatever was being said, as he gave Wesker a death glare, mouthing, ‘This means war.’

Wesker kept on with his briefing, ignoring the silent threat, except for the very slight upturn of one lip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this made you giggle a bit and I set it up just in case I ever come up with something else to follow.


	6. The Soda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris tries to prank Wesker and it does not go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris is relentless, but he can't seem to catch a break.

Whenever Wesker ordered fast food, which was not as often as the other team members, but when he did, he always could be found with the largest drink size, slurping away at whatever flavor that was hidden under the sealed lid and still to the point that when it was empty, he kept sucking until he could not find any more of whatever sugary goodness was within.

Chris knew it had to be some kind of cola as it was a dark liquid that he could barely make out through the wax-covered cardboard cups. So because he wanted to get one up on the blonde for the donut fiasco, Chris decided that placing a violently shaken can of soda on his captain’s desk as a random act of “kindness” in the hopes Wesker would open the can only to be covered in the sticky syrup mess requiring a trip to the showers where Chris could strategically bump into the older man.

Finally, deciding on a regular cola and prepping it just as intended, Chris left it on Wesker’s desk one day when the blonde had left early for a meeting across town. The next day, Chris could not help the anticipation of Wesker getting sprayed when he opened the can and kept shooting his eyes through the blinds, still seeing the can sitting on his captain’s desk untouched.

Lunch came and went, and no explosion. All was quiet on the Alpha front. The day came to an end and still nothing. Chris stared longingly at the can still sitting where he left it and gazed quickly at Wesker who was wrapped up in his typing having brought a simple lunch with him that day.

Sighing, Chris left for the day, disappointed that his cleverly devised plan failed.

The next day came and went the same, except the can was gone, but there was no adverse reaction from Wesker, so Chris shrugged, having to think of a better way to get back at the blonde.

.....

It was a week later, and the soda prank wholly forgotten.

Chris was bored and made his way into Wesker’s office, who was shuffling through paperwork, organizing files that had been strewn all over the desk, “Yes, Christopher? Can I assist you with something?”

Keeping silent, Chris saw an unopened can of soda next to Wesker’s lunch, and being the antagonist he was, he grabbed for it. Before Wesker could make any protest, which he did not intend to as he smiled knowingly, Chris opened the can in anticipation of a free drink. Except it wasn’t just any can, it was **the** can. It was his prank can, and he jerked back violently, dropping the can on the floor which continued spraying everywhere, but not soon enough as he was covered in the brown syrupy mess, “What the hell?!”

Wesker could not contain his amusement at Chris getting a taste of his own medicine, and he busted out laughing harder than he had in a long time, almost falling out of his chair at Chris’s reaction to the mess.

Chris was livid, holding his arms up, not wanting to smear any more of the mess on his clothes, not that it really mattered, “Are you fucking kidding me?! How did you know!!”

Slowly recovering and pulling off his sunglasses to wipe his eyes of tears, Wesker continued to chuckle, “I don’t drink soda. I knew it was a prank.” And the laughing renewed, and Wesker pinched his brow to tame any further tears of amusement as he leaned to one side of his chair to gazed playfully at the fuming brunette.

Looking back at Wesker with an incredulous expression, pissed at being played, “What?! Then what the fuck is in those giant fountain drink containers you suck dry?”

Chuckling and replacing his sunglasses, Wesker replied, “Sweet tea.” Yes, all those massive drink cups were actually disgustingly over-sweetened tea. Wesker indeed had a terrible sweet tooth.

Chris’s face went blank, it all making sense now. The reaction to the donut flavor wasn’t Wesker playing him at all. The blonde was actually enjoying the sweet pastry that much. Still indifferent, Chris mumbled, "How are you not diabetic?"

Without another word when Wesker glared at the rude comment, Chris turned and started to walk away, but froze at his captain’s stern calling, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Chris turned slightly, “To shower?” And Wesker shook his head, smiling, “No. Not yet. You’re going to clean up your mess. Look, you got some on the files, you’ll need to reprint those too.”

Chris deflated visibly, not only was the soda starting to dry, making him feel incredibly icky, but Wesker was right, it was his mess, and he had given himself away as the culprit of the prank, “Fuck…”

Wesker grinned, now sitting straight in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, “Nice try, Chris.”

After a few moments, Wesker dropped his arms to slap his hands on his thighs and rose, still grinning, he walked up to the discouraged brunette, who just silently followed the older man with his eyes as he came closer. Stopping next to him, Wesker leaned into Chris’s personal space, enough to cause the younger man to lean back slightly, catching his hand on the desk of papers to steady himself.

Looking at the soda covered brunette up and down, he chuckled again and drawled, “I expect this mess to be cleaned up by the time I return.” With that, Wesker sauntered out of the STARS office to God knows where, leaving a dejected brunette in his wake, “Fuck…Well, that sucked.” With this assertion, Chris spun away from the mess of an office to stalk off to find cleaning supplies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Chris being a prankster in STARS, but also being forgetful in his eagerness.


	7. The Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why Wesker does not trust Chris with his nipples.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris is brutal.

Every two weeks, Alpha team did hand to hand combat training, rotating out partners, so they all got used to having to possibly come into direct contact with a perpetrator of varying weights and genders.

It was the last rotation of the training day, and Wesker and Chris were matched against each other. Chris, with all intents and purposes, had it out for his captain, not appreciating the humor of being pranked with his own supposedly fool-proof scheme. The hothead in him would not relent that he was bested.

The two were now circling each other, Wesker calm, impassive, and confident, and Chris steadfast, determined, and frustrated that his game was not going to plan, and he intended to get one up on the older man. However, hand to hand combat was not the safest activity to try to best Wesker at, who was an expert martial artist, which Chris would be learning intimately very soon.

Making the first move to try and tackle Wesker, the blonde easily sidestepped the action to let Chris fumble and almost fall. Regaining his balance, Chris was livid now, his anger blinding him, and he grabbed for the blonde who again easily evaded the brunette's efforts.

Wesker found the game amusing now. Seeing Chris trying so hard, he decided to throw the fuming brunette a bone and let Chris “catch” him, which, surprisingly, Chris was able to put Wesker in a reasonably advanced hold. “I’m impressed, Redfield, but you’re leaving yourself wide open.”

In the blink of an eye, Wesker had switched their stances, and Chris was twisted in such a way and pinned down by the blonde that it could almost be mistaken for a fairly intimate position, Wesker straddling the younger man’s hindquarters to use his weight to press the other down and keep Chris incapacitated, one arm twisted and completely immobile.

But Wesker had left part of himself open, and Chris, in his fury, thought nothing of fighting dirty and grabbed one of Wesker’s pectorals in a vice grip and twisted the skin harshly enough to cause a loud grunt from the older man who ended up shifting their bodies into an even more provocative position to try and get Chris to release his skin, of which Chris did not relent and only gripped the skin tighter.

Wesker’s naked eyes bore down intensely into Chris’s, who stared back in silent fury, the blonde’s teeth clenched tightly as not to make any more sounds least he bring any attention from the rest of Alpha team to the intensity of their brawl.

Trying to manipulate the offending hand to release his flesh, Wesker quickly swept his eyes about the room and with everyone intently wrapped up in their own sessions, Wesker glared back down in heated irritation and allowed his cock to twitch where it was pressed up heavily against the back of one of Chris's thighs. He leaned back just barely to grind his crotch back down, shocking Chris to relent on his prize slightly.

With the sudden reduction of pressure, Wesker grabbed the offending arm and twisted it to flip them so that he had Chris in a chokehold, now pressed fully against the backside of the brunette who bucked against the tight hold fiercely, gagging at the pressure and sinking his fingers into the soft skin under one of Wesker’s armpits, knowing just enough about hand to hand where, if he wanted, he could dislodge the hold, but then Wesker would not be pressed up against him like this either.

Wesker leaned closer to the brunette’s face, obviously affected by the fingers digging into his tender skin, and hissed in the other’s ear as he jerked his hips tightly against the brunette, his cock twitching again, this time not of his own doing, “Keep it up. I won’t think twice of letting you pass out.”

Chris’s face was cherry red as he tried to suck in strangle gasps through the chokehold, staring with glazed determination at the older man’s pained irritated expression. Finally, feeling like he was on the verge of passing out, his eyes starting to roll back, Chris withdrew from the soft flesh of the older man, and the arm that had been cutting off his air was withdrawn, and he lurched forward against the floor grabbing his neck as he coughed loudly.

Wesker patted his back as he continued to cough harshly, and the blonde was on his feet before Chris even knew the other’s body was no longer pinning him down. Chris could distantly hear Wesker praise everyone for their continued efforts to increase their skills.

Still hunched over and sucking in air, Chris could feel a hand on his arm, pulling him to his feet. It was Wesker of course. The dark shades returned to cover the pale eyes, “Get over yourself, Redfield. I didn’t harm you that much.”

Chris couldn’t say anything but shook his head in agreeance as he was dragged back up to the locker room where Wesker deposited him on one of the benches. Leaving him to return to the tall lockers, Chris stared after the blonde, swallowing and running his hand over his throat gently.

After a few more deep breaths, enough to feel comfortable to stand on his own, he made his way to the locker side. He stood stock-still in horror as he caught Wesker inspecting his own chest, the impressive massive bruising around one of the blonde’s pale nipples and armpit incredibly dark against the blonde’s skin.

At the slight shuffling, Wesker snapped his eyes up, frowning slightly at the brunette who just stood in the doorway looking incredibly guilty, “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t ha—”

Effectively cutting off the apology, Wesker returned his attention to his locker, “Don’t.” And the bruises were quickly covered by a clean undershirt, causing Chris to bring his gaze apprehensively back up to his captain’s face who was still getting dressed, “It’s the whole point of the exercise. If you pushed further in the end, you could have easily dislodged me.” Resuming eye contact, Wesker continued, “Remember, the perpetrator will not think twice about playing dirty. You need to use all tools at your disposal to catch your attacker off guard to take the upper hand.”

It took Chris a moment to truly get the meaning of what was being said, and he narrowed his eyes as he crossed his arms to shift his stance slightly and tried to suppress a knowing smirk, “So… that other thing… was that on purpose to catch me off guard? Or…?”

Wesker upturned one lip, “Slightly intentional, but mostly accidental. I’d apologize, but you seemed to enjoy it.” The confession caught the brunette off guard who now stood rigid, wide-eyed, his jaw dropping slightly, unable to think of a witty retort. Chuckling, Wesker slipped his dress shirt over his shoulders, adjusting the collar and quickly grabbing his other things and pocketing them, and he closed his locker to turn towards the exit.

Glancing over his shoulder as he opened the door, he stalled long enough for one last bit of advice, “I admit, you are getting better. But you still need to try harder. And shut your mouth, you’re going to catch flies.” With that said, Wesker was gone.

Still not sure what to say, Chris snapped his mouth shut as he straightened up, slowly stepping over to his own locker. He opened the door to examine himself in the small mirror and was met with slight bruising across his neckline, mottled with small petechiae, “Goddamnit Wesker!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wesker's starting to really get into the game.


	8. The Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker loves cake and Chris slightly ruins it for him. Only slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really had a bad block on how to finish this as it’s been sitting in my Courting folder for weeks.

Chris had the ultimate plan. It was foolproof. It had to be. He knew Wesker’s weakness now. Sweets.

Knowing full well that Wesker had really enjoyed that donut, and actually had the audacity to ask him what bakery they were from after everything had calmed down between them, Chris just stared at him and dumbly stated he didn’t know. He had grabbed them from one of the other departments when they weren’t looking.

His plan was simple, really, somehow get Wesker close enough to some type of pastry and then smash it in his face.

At least that was the basic jest of his plan. How things ended up playing out, well, were much more in Wesker’s favor then Chris's, which was not really the intended effect Chris imagined.

.....

It was a day like any other, Wesker staying late with whatever he was doing on his computer, and Chris also staying late because he was given extra duties to reorganize some of the older inventory down in the evidence room.

Wesker had caught Chris and some of the other department clowns throwing water balloons off the roof at pigeons the day before. Wesker happened to be walking up to the precinct when one landed right next to him, and upon looking up, caught Chris in the middle of aiming another balloon, tongue clenched between his teeth in rapt concentration and not realizing who he had almost hit dead on.

When Chris’s eyes locked with the stoic face of his captain, pure horror caused Chris’s hand to squeeze the balloon he was holding tightly, splattering the brunette with its contents. Wesker pointed a finger up at him, a look of disdain masking his amusement, causing the panicked brunette to dodge away from the side of the roof.

Hence Chris spending the rest of the day prior and this day organizing dust-covered boxes from 20 years ago… After picking up all the balloon pieces with tweezers.

.....

Finally finishing the menial task late in the afternoon, Chris had made his way back to the Alpha room to see only a couple of stragglers getting ready to finish their day. Wanting to have a moment alone to commence his donut revenge, Chris sat at his desk pretending to catch up on his reports while the rest of the team said their good-byes and shuffled out.

Alone at last, Chris went to one of the spare lockers and pulled out a small box he had hidden there that morning as part of his wicked plan to enact his revenge. Removing the delicate item from inside the box, he stepped up to the threshold of Wesker’s office, sheepishly rapping his knuckles against the frame to grab his captain’s attention.

Not even looking up, the blonde answered, “What can I help you with Christopher? Are you done with the files?” Slinking closer, Chris held up the item he had been hiding just outside the doorway. It was a small homemade cake that he had whipped together from an old family recipe. Of which was called none other than ‘better then sex cake’ and indeed truly lived up to its name.

Still not gracing Chris with his attention, Chris put the cake as close as he could to Wesker's face without completely alarming the older man, trying to grasp the blonde’s attention at least long enough to read what was written on the cake.

Seeing something off in his peripheral vision, Wesker finally turned his head towards the presented item, simply designed in white icing with red Redfield-chicken scratch writing, “What…? … ‘Thank you for tolerating me?' What’s thi…” And looking up with brows furrowed, confusion and curiosity evident in the older man’s expression, was, unfortunately unsuspecting, and not quick enough when the hand presenting the cake hauled it with blinding speed at his face.

Because he was at his desk, there was really no way for Wesker to dodge except to lean towards the left or the right, which despite his efforts, half the cake landed against the side of his face and the rest on and over his shoulder and plopping sadly into his chair. Standing up abruptly, his chair screeching as it hit the wall with a bang, the two men stood for a moment in a deadlock of wills.

Wesker slowly brought his hands up to gently take off his sunglass and placed them gently on his desk. Retracting one hand back towards his face, Wesker wiped some of the cake off his cheek and tasted it by licking it off his palm in an enticingly sensual manner, causing Chris to swallow thickly at the unanticipated reaction, fully expecting to be pounded into oblivion.

The blank stare Wesker pinned the younger man with suddenly turned to glistening euphoria as he moaned at the incredibly decadent cake that had been so haphazardly wasted on a prank. He grabbed another larger dollop and licked the delicate fluffy sweetness, making a small noise of enjoyment. For several moments, Wesker slowly enjoyed the mess by sensually licking the delicious cake and icing from his sticky fingers.

However, without warning, his face hardened, and his nostrils flared mid-lick like he was about to become a bull in a china shop.

It was Chris’s signal to run.

Chris attempted to bolt for the exit, chastising himself for forgetting to prop open the main STARS door, he stumbled trying to round the desk. He only had a short moment before Wesker had grabbed some of the still intact cake and jumped over his desk to tackle Chris in the doorway of his office, bodily pressing the younger man down by straddling the other’s thighs. With a seething snarl, Wesker smooshed a fist full of cake into the younger man’s face and pressed the sugary goodness into the other’s mouth, who tried to bite the invading fingers in defense. Easily escaping the clenched teeth, Wesker brought his hand up to run still cake-covered fingers through the brunette’s hair, trying to mosh it into the other’s skull so that no matter how many showers Chris took, he would forever smell like cake.

No words had been spoken, except the grunts of exertion of trying to cover each other with as much cake as possible. Chris struggled to dislodge the older man to no avail as Wesker had a slight height and weight advantage and the experience to keep the brunette under him for as long as he wanted if he so chose.

Not to be outdone, Chris wrestled a hand up to grab some of the intact cake still on the blonde’s shoulder and brought it up to press the mess into the impeccable blonde locks to run the sticky bits through the strands to the back of the other’s neck and under the collar causing Wesker to growl loudly.

No one fucks with the boss's hair and gets away with it, and seeing red, Wesker starting to go for Chris’s throat, his hand just barely gripping the skin of the younger man’s neck, whose eyes widened in his realized mistake of messing up Wesker’s hair.

Suddenly, the main STARS door opened, and Jill walked in while talking to someone distractedly out in the hallway, “I’ll just be a… mom… ment.” She stared down wide-eyed at the sprawled cake covered figures, both looking furious, hands covered in icing, the blonde's hands around Chris's neck and Chris frozen in the middle of mashing more cake in the other’s face, both stared up at her as if she had just stepped in on a solemn funeral eulogy. She was halfway stanced to take a step closer towards her desk to grab whatever she had forgotten, and quickly reversed the leg and slowly stepped back out into the hallway and closed the door quietly.

Not moving and keeping wary eyes on the door, both froze for several moments. Then staring at each other, both men chuckled, Chris nervously and Wesker a mix of irritation and incredulous awe at how amazing the cake tasted, “You have to give me this recipe.”

Eye bulging at the sudden turn of events, Chris could only mumble, “I can’t. It’s a family secret.”

Wesker looked crestfallen at being told no, “But…”

“Nope. Now get off me, you’re fucking heavy.”

“But…”

“No! Get off me, Albert!”

“Do **not** call me Albert!”

With the outright denial, Wesker rolled his hips to get a rise out of the man below him. “Why not?” Curious why Chris would be so adamant about not sharing a recipe but having no trouble sharing the cake said recipe made with his face, Wesker ground himself down again, feeling the younger man’s cock twitch slightly at the surprisingly aggressive action from the blonde.

“Nope. I will bake you as many cakes as you want, but you’ll never get the recipe.” With his proclamation, Chris pushed the blonde back roughly causing the older man to land on his rear. Scrambling to his feet, Chris put some space between them, smirking at the mess he had made of his captain’s face, blonde hair sticking up in the back.

Wesker rose to his feet, his amusement dying just as quickly as it came, “You need to stop while you’re ahead.”

With a look of giddy wonderment, Chris glanced down at Wesker’s crotch, “Oh, I’m a—head, am I?”

The sudden violent kick to his solar plexus knocked Chris off his feet and the air from his lungs. Unmoving from where he landed and in a complete and utter daze, Chris tried to gasp for air. It took him a second to notice Wesker standing above him, staring down in obvious disapproval.

Suddenly, just as Chris caught his breath, the rest of the cake that had landed on Wesker’s chair was unceremoniously dumped on his face. Rolling away from his offender, Chris wiped the stinging icing from his eyes, “No fair! I’m injured!”

Scoffing, Wesker stepped away from him towards the main STARS door, “Just finishing what you started. Now clean this up. I swear if you weren’t so incredible a pointman, you’d make an excellent janitor.”

Faltering at the audacity of his captain, he tried to get to his feet, but the older man had already stepped out of the office.

Several minutes passed, and Chris finally managed to sit up, cursing and slating cake bits against Wesker’s partially open door. “Damnit!”

The purring voice of his captain made Chris jerk away from the unexpected request, “And I expect a cake at least once a month since you so graciously offered.” Chris stared up in shock, mouth gaping. Wesker was completely clean like nothing ever happened. “I don’t care what passive-aggressive note you put on it either.”

Making his way back to his office, Wesker sighed heavily and shuffled some things around, and made his way back towards the main door. Perturbed, Chris called after him, “Where do you think you’re going?!”

Raising one blonde eyebrow over the frames of his now clean sunglasses, “Home?”

Sputtering in disbelief, “What?! But…?”

Wesker’s face split with a shark-like grin as he glanced around, “I didn’t make this mess. You did.”

Chris still sputtered, uncomprehending of being left to his devices, “But..?!”

Pointing at himself, Wesker grinned even more if possible, “Last I checked, I was the boss. I expect this place to be spotless by the time I get in tomorrow.”

Huffing and looking like a kicked puppy, Chris looked down dejectedly at the sticky mess of cake all over him, “Yes, sir.”

The main door closed suddenly, and Chris jerked his attention back to Wesker, who still had a hand on the door handle, grinning, “You can keep trying to get a rise out of me, but the only way you’ll win, is if I let you win.”

Confidence instantly renewed, Chris smirked up at the older man, “Well then, I guess I should keep trying… Harder.” And Chris paused for good measure, “To get a rise out of you.”

Wesker could not help but be impressed with the younger man’s quick wit and enthusiasm, “So persistent. I like that in a man.”

Chris was about to retort with something lewd but was quickly cut off as Wesker dropped his grin back to his regular passive expression, notwithstanding a small knowing smile, “Remember. Cake. My desk. Once a month.”

Several moments of silence passed, and Chris not wanting to push his luck past cleaning up the cake mess, he jumped up abruptly to salute his captain, “Yes, sir! Anything for you, sir!”

Shaking his head, Wesker chuckled, “I swear, I don’t know where you get your confidence, Chris.” And the door was swung back open, and Wesker was gone.

Groaning, Chris looked around and dropped his gaze to his hands, “Fuck!” He was really tired of cleaning things.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the purring voice retorted the brunette’s grumbling, “You keep moaning about it, I’ll make you clean it up with your tongue.”

Chris jumped yet again with heart shocking surprise at the suddenness of hearing Wesker's voice and swung his attention to the doorway to catch his captain's expression, but it was empty, echoing steps quickly making their way down the hallway.

Not daring to say anything else, Chris internally ranted, ‘That fucker is good at this game.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wesker learns to never let his guard down around Chris.
> 
> Also, if this was your cake idea on Pinterest, you are the most amazing person ever to grace the face of this Earth.
> 
> I swear I’m not dicking around from Sacrifice. Those chapters are bare bone outlines. This one was pretty much completed, minus the endings.


	9. The Vest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-courting team-building exercise. Wesker protects his team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied.
> 
> I could not wait until 11 November to write something new though technically I’ve had this written for four months. After sequestering myself for my capstone (my final briefing is Sunday - hoorah), I felt the need to finish this one finally.
> 
> This is not what you think. This is more on the serious side, so not like the other chapters in this work, but felt it fit here since it is pre-smut.

Chris could not help but stare in fascination and worry at his captain’s pale features as the older man meticulously picked asphalt pieces out of the large gash along his palm and wrist. Chris watched the usually stoic expression twitch further downward in irritation at the younger man’s blatant staring as a small trickle of sweat made its way down the blonde's left temple.

.....

Alpha team had only been working together maybe six months or so and today was the first day they had any mission mishaps. They had become complacent from having such good luck, and today it had run out.

As Alpha team was transferring perpetrators over to uniformed RPD officers, they were ambushed. Of course, without hesitation, Captain Wesker protected his team by pushing his subordinates closest to him to the ground as bullets rained around the group.

Chris and Jill had been discussing some after-action review points when Wesker shoved them both down once the shots were fired. They all fell to the ground in a tumbled heap, their captain protecting them as bullets pocked the wall and ground around them.

The shooter definitely had a deathwish as several other officers returned fire and took the attacker down easily, cutting the ambush off as quickly as it started.

Once everything was clear, they all started checking each other over. Chris had busted his palm, wrist, and the side of his head against the asphalt but was luckily not hit. Same with Jill, a bit banged up but relatively unharmed. Wesker felt like he probably had hit the ground harder than he thought he did, and as he checked over his vest, he found a small hole in the material near the armpit of his vest but thought nothing of it.

Wesker was not a newbie at being shot with a vest on; thus, the blonde ignored the now dull throbbing ache in his chest and side, figuring it was just a strained muscle from being shot and the vest catching it. Plus, he had shoved his subordinates down as he himself dove out of the way, and they had all landed hard.

In essence, it was just another day on the force. Approached by officers and paramedics, the trio declined any assistance, wanting to get back to the STARS office and start filling out the dreaded paperwork after they tended to the superficial wounds.

No one else was hurt, thankfully, and Alpha team ended up back at the precinct with Barry providing first aid to Jill, who had busted open her elbow, and Wesker sat attending to Chris, whose hand and forehead were a mess. Of course, it was his pointman’s trigger hand.

The brunette watched his captain’s surprisingly well-manicured fingers slowly pull out the remaining bits from his hand and start to disinfect the gash with first aid spray, least he get an infection.

Suddenly, Wesker’s hands started to shake as he cleaned the wound, which did not go unnoticed by Chris's watchful stare.

Wesker’s eyes blurred, but not even remotely thinking of it, as he was more concerned his pointman’s hand was taken care of.

Chris noticed the blonde seem to pale further, and the other’s body start to shake lightly. Suddenly gripping the older man’s hands to stop his efforts, Chris tried to catch his captain’s eyes through the dark shades, “Captain, are you alright?”

Wesker quickly swiped at the hand and knocked it away, irritably retorting, “It’s nothing. Let me finish Redfield.”

With said retort, Wesker quickly finished the binding on the brunette’s hand tighter than necessary and quickly stood up, and suddenly, his head was swimming, causing his vision to blur even more. Nausea rolled his stomach, and Wesker sunk to collapse back into the chair he had just been sitting in and would have slid to the floor if Chris had not caught him in time.

Their faces were incredibly close, and Chris could smell the older man as he glanced wearily at the sweat that continued to trickle down the blonde’s temples. A clammy, pale hand was roughly shoved into Chris’s face to push him away. Still, Chris held on steadfast and lowered Wesker to the floor to quickly unbuckle the small chest rack he still wore from the mission and ripped open the velcro holding the vest closed only to discover a complete sopping bloody mess.

Wesker stared down in confused shock, “But the vest…”

Abruptly, Wesker's work shirt was ripped open, button’s flying in all directions, and the blonde was jerked onto his side as his undershirt was cut open with someone’s combat knife, hands were on him, and he could not make out what was up or down as he felt like he was swimming through a haze. Somehow Wesker was able to remain fairly stoic through the whole fiasco as people shuffled around him in panic, someone barking orders to call 911.

The dull ache he had felt since the ambush intensified as what he assumed was a bullet wound was probed roughly, and his stomach lurched even more as he was rolled further onto his side and almost onto his stomach. Wesker flailed his arms to try and brace himself from completely rolling onto his stomach. Gagging but not throwing up, he squeezed his eyes shut as he breathed heavily to keep the nausea down. A hand swept over his side, and he could feel a sharp pinch as it felt like something was pulled out of his skin.

Barry’s voice wafted through the confusion, “You are one lucky motherfucker, Sir.” Upon this statement, Wesker cracked his eyes open to gaze at a small mashed up bullet covered in what he knew was his blood. Reaching out a shaking hand, he grabbed the bullet and brought it close to his face, examining it with as much concentration he could muster from the unexpected blood loss. “What.. what the hell?” Was all he could manage in his state.

Somehow the bullet was not caught by the plate of his vest and had gone straight through the thick material, which likely slowed the bullet some. However, it still entered just under his armpit, probably glancing off a rib, rolling down along the bone to his side, which had been tightly pressed against the Kevlar plate, to rupture from his side, a bruised furrow marking its path where the bullet had tunneled through just under his skin.

“That is the weirdest shit I’ve ever seen!” Frost’s excited voice wafted through the fog. Wesker, not caring for the enthusiasm at all, chastised him, “Shut up, Joseph." Grunting as he tried to sit up, Wesker wheezed, "Help me up.” Wesker tried to look around, but his vision was still blurred, and could barely make out who was close by as he stuck his arm up only to cringe and bring it back to curl it to his chest, sucking air through his teeth, the movement pulling at the entry wound. “Fuck.”

Barry’s voice sounded close, “Best you stay right there, Wesker, EMTs are on their way up.” Wesker sighed through his nose in irritation but understanding their concern, “Fine.” Looking down, he could see blood everywhere and thought it better he did not move after practically collapsing in Chris’s arms.

EMTs came and assessed and finally persuaded the older man that a hospital visit was in order. Having heard the commotion, Chief Irons made his way to the STARS office and demanded Wesker take leave until he was healed. Grumbling as the heavyset man left, Wesker knew he would not be gone for long. There was too much paperwork to do and even more so now with his injury. Plus, between Chris and Joseph and some other jokesters on Bravo team, the RPD might burn down. Or flood. Or both.

Sighing, Wesker was determined to walk out on his own, no matter how bad he looked, covered in blood, wrapped in gauze, and shirt ripped open. Chris and Barry following after him and the EMTs, who held him steady as he made his way out to the ambulance. Situated on the gurney, strapped in, and ready for transport, Barry chuckled at Wesker’s stoic deep downturned frown as if this was incredibly inconvenient for him, “You need a battle buddy, Sir?”

Now irritated along with the throbbing pain, Wesker scoffed, “I am fully capable of filling out the paperwork if that is what you mean. So, no, I don’t need a battle buddy.” Waving a hand, Barry turned to make his way back inside, leaving Chris to watch as Wesker was being prepped for travel. With deep concern creasing his youthful face, Chris couldn’t help to make sure, “Sir, are you sure? I have nothing to do this evening, and I don’t mind stopping by.”

Wesker was touched but didn’t feel it was necessary. “I’ll be fine, Redfield.” Nodding, Chris frowned as he turned his back to return to the office. After a few steps, Wesker called back to him just as the doors were being closed, “Wait, Chris. Could you bring my pack to the hospital? I’m going to need it.”

Chris had jerked around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash, a small smile gracing his lips that he could be helpful and cheerfully shouted, “Sure thing, Captain!” Wesker's frown lessened in return just as the doors closed, and the ambulance pulled away.

.....

That evening, Chris and a few other team members visited, bringing the requested backpack left in Wesker’s office. They all chatted cheerfully to get the scoop on how long they would be free from their stick-in-the-mud boss, who up to this point had been overly professional, and pun intended, never let his hair down. Not even to catch a quick drink at the end of the day to unwind.

The injury put Wesker into the human realm for his subordinates and refuted their belief that he was secretly an alien. They could tell their Captain was in immense discomfort from the deep furrow between his brows. However, Wesker tried to distract himself and lighten the mood and had actually chimed in with the long-running joke, and with an immaculately kept straight face, sarcastically confirmed nor denied being an alien bent on world domination.

Seeing Wesker in a new light, the group laughed heartily, which quieted down when Wesker groaned in pain from tensing the muscles in his side. After being scolded by one of the nurses, the team decided to leave their Captain to rest. As they slowly shuffled out, Chris turned back, eagerly offering his services to the older man, “Whenever you get discharged, Sir, give me a call. I can pick you up and take you home. Figure it'd be better than a cab ride.”

A little taken back but still grateful, Wesker nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression gracing his features, despite incessantly wearing his shades, “I might take you up on that.”

With a thumbs up and a big grin, Chris asserted, “Anything for you, Captain!” Wesker looked after the younger man in wonder as the brunette jogged out of the room to catch up with his teammates.

Rubbing a hand over his face, tired from the day and blood loss, Wesker monologued wearily in his head, ‘I need to keep an eye on that one. Too much energy for his own good.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m no expert on ballistics, but from what I have learned over the years, it wouldn't be improbable to happen, but bullets are weird, especially small caliber, which can bounce off bones and turn your insides into a ping pong ball machine. I just wanted an excuse to build up Chris’s high expectations of his Captain and being captivated and smitten by how cool and collected Wesker is, even when he is bleeding everywhere.
> 
> Sadly, I have no more ideas for this work, but I’m sure I will think of other hilarity to add new chapters. Ideas are always welcome now that I have some free time to write.


	10. The Snowball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a harmless snowball fight between STARS teams. Or is it?
> 
> Alt title: Teambuilding Snowball Tactics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some team building fluff.
> 
> I debated this as a stand-alone but thought it would fit well here. Pre-ass chasing. Maybe slight man-crush at this point. Winter of 1996/1997. No Rebecca as she didn't join STARS until June 1998.

Chris tossed a snowball into Wesker’s office as if it was a grenade, creating a slushing splattered mess right in the middle of the floor.

It was the safest spot for Chris to toss it without completely pissing Wesker off, “Sir! We need your help! We’re outnumbered! Please save us! You’re our last hope!”

Before Wesker could yell at the brunette, Chris was gone.

Wesker sat a moment, expression stoic as he stared at the mess creating a puddle in front of his desk, listening to the squeak of wet boots stomping down the hallway towards the roof exit, Chris’s voice growing fainter the further he ran.

Wesker looked down at all the reports laid out on his desk, sighing. Despite it being winter, they had their hands full, and he rubbed at his eyes, pushing his sunglasses up with his fingers. They all needed a break. Even he was ready for a change of scenery.

Maybe they could all do some good with some team building. Wesker smirked, glad his team was not a bunch of pushovers and actually knew how to make light of shitty paperwork and have fun.

.....

Wesker narrowly avoided a snowball to the face as he stepped out onto the roof, quickly dodging away from the direction the attack had manifested and put a solid barrier between himself and his adversaries.

Chris’s voice rang out, capturing Wesker’s attention, “Captain! Oh, thank God! We’re being slaughtered out here!”

Wesker couldn’t help chuckling lightheartedly for once and certainly not being a stick in the mud. He abandoned his cover and barrel-rolled to safety next to Chris and Jill.

The air was frigid, but moving around was causing him to heat up. Wesker needed to know what he was getting himself into. As serious as he could manage under the circumstances, “What’s the situation?”

Jill quickly laid out the specifics as Chris kept their enemies at bay with tactfully spaced out wet mushy snowballs.

Joseph, Brad, and Barry had built up a small mound on the other side of the roof to stage their offense. Packing snowballs in preparation for their onslaught against the other three members of Alpha Team.

Just as the three were content with their arsenal, they were brutally ambushed by no other than Bravo Team, Marini in the forefront announcing their attack with a shrill battle cry. Pummeled by snowballs, Barry, Joseph, and Brad abandoned their post and fell back to join their counterparts behind the helo.

Kenneth’s voice echoed across the rooftop, antagonizing the Alpha members who vacated their makeshift cover so easily at the pre-emptive attack, “Give up Alpha Team! Bunch of chicken shits! You don’t have what it takes to win this war!”

Joseph shot back as he started making rapid snowballs to protect their secondary outpost, “You may have started this scuffle, but we are gonna finish it, that’s for damn sure!”

Forest and Edward had already started reinforcing their captured enemy territory, expanding the snow-packed wall and making it a foot higher, enough for the six-man team to build up their own stash, slightly impressed with the bountiful booty they inherited from their attack. Richard and Marini were prepping snowballs, building up from the onslaught to come.

Jill called out, “What are we fighting for?! We need to designate flags!”

Forest retorted, “Improvise! I’m not stepping out so you fuckers can pelt me with ice balls!”

Not a fan of the foul language, Barry shouted, “Language Speyer!”

Marini shouted over Barry, “Pipe down, old man! This is war!”

Wesker chuckled as he kept an eye on the Bravo members who were scrambling to reinforce their wall and making sure there were no more sneak attacks against his team, “Are you sure, Marini?! It’s six against five! Seems we have the advantage!”

Edward joined the fray, “You might have an extra man, Sir, but we have the **game**!”

Chris could barely repress his laughter as he joined the banter, “This is no game, Dewey! Lives are at stake here!”

Barry was the voice of reason, mostly, “We need flags to capture! Pick something!”

Brad surprisingly provided the fodder, “Pick something, Bravo Team! We declare Captain Wesker’s sunglasses!”

Wesker wrenched his head to the usually finicky pilot, a proud grin on his face, “An impossible target. Good one, Vickers!”

There were grumblings from Bravo Team at the announcement. Jill yelled over them, “Marini’s mustache! It’s only fair!”

Marini paused in his snowball packing, “What?! That makes no sense!”

Kenneth shouted in agreeance with Jill, “Yes! It must be the stash! It’s like a giant, fuzzy caterpillar!”

Edward chimed in his confusion, “WHAT! What does that have to do with anything!”

Marini sputtered, “Still, that makes no—!”

Richard bellowed over any further protests, “Protect the stash by any means necessary!”

.....

Targets agreed upon. It was an all or nothing battle between teams as they ran back and forth across the roof, pelting each other with snowballs and trying to advance on the other team’s position to claim victory.

Caught slightly off guard as they were advanced upon suddenly, Chris screamed bloody murder, jumping in front of Wesker, who was crouched behind the helo, “Protect the shades at all costs! Even if it means your life!”

Wesker scoffed at the overly excited pointman, “Calm your ass down, Redfield! I’ve played more war games than you can count fingers!”

Chris turned, eyes wide, grabbing the lapels of Wesker’s winter jacket, shaking the older man slightly, yelling in his captain's face as if he didn’t hear a thing Wesker had just said, “You can count on me, Sir! I’ll protect you to the very end!”

During the short interaction, Chris ended up taking a few snowball hits to his back that were intended for Wesker. Playfully pretending to be propelled forward, Chris tackled his captain into a heavy snowdrift, “I’ll protect you with my life, Cap’n!”

Barry, Brad, and Joseph shouted at seeing Chris and Wesker fall, "Man Down! Man Down!" They started tossing snowballs as fast as they could to protect their comrades.

After being hit with a few more snowballs, Chris pretended to die, tongue out and eyes rolled up, yet still panting from his comedic run-around. Chris’s head dropped against Wesker’s chest, causing the older man to grunt. Chris’s head was as hard and as thick as a brick.

Wesker stayed there a moment, letting Chris have his fun before he roughly tossed the dead weight off him, causing the brunette to land face-first into the snow, who stayed true to his part of playing dead, minus the spitting and sputtering of his mouth full of snow and a small grumble of ‘gross.’

In the absolute chaos, Jill had managed to sneak up on Marini and lunged as fast as she could to pinch at the Bravo captain’s dark mustache, “I’ve captured the stash! Alpha Team for the win!”

Heads turned, several shouts of outrage, “What the hell?!” “Impossible!” "Godamnit!"

Kenneth crossed his arms in irritation, “No fair! She has the advantage! Sneaky-ass ninja queen!”

Jill denied the accusation hastily, blushing slightly, “Noo… I just got lucky no one paid me any attention. I feel kinda deprived, guys. Too scared to hit a girl.” She pretended to wipe away fake tears and snuffled. A random snowball hit her in the leg, causing Jill to jerk in the direction it came from, "Asshole!"

Joseph was jumping up and down, his red bandana bouncing cheerfully, “No denying it, Bravo! She has the skillz man! Woo Hoo! Our suave Valentine!”

Wesker was still dusting off snow from where he had landed in a heaping pile of it, “Alright, wrap it up, guys. This was fun and all, but there is still work to do.”

A loud grumble of 'Party Pooper' was hissed by a masked voice causing Wesker to turn on his heels to look for the culprit.

Chris’s shoulders sagged, letting out an exaggerated sigh, “You’re no fun, Wesker!”

Wesker turned towards the huffing figure sternly, “Keep whining about it, and I’ll give you double duty.”

Perking upright, Chris sputtered, “What! I saved your life!”

Hands on his hips, Wesker snapped back, “Make that triple.”

Chris eyed his captain with contempt, muttering under his breath, “Fuck… and I died for you too! Ungrateful—!”

Marini chimed in, knowing that Chris was digging his own grave and would never be allowed to go home ever again if he didn’t shut his mouth, “Redfield! Don’t push it.”

Standing at attention and raising his right hand in salute, “Yes, Sir! No pushing, Sir!”

Wesker rubbed his face, cheeks red from the cold, and pointed towards the door silently. The brightness of the snow starting to hurt his eyes.

As everyone started shuffling in, Wesker’s tone lightened, “Alright, hot coffees on me. Great job out there. You make me proud. You all gave Bravo a good run for their money. Jill, where the heck did you learn that?!”

Jill blushed slightly as she shuffled into the STARS office, “It’s a secret, Sir.”

Brad whined, curious how she was able to invade Bravo Team’s defenses, “No fair, Jill.”

Jill turned on her heel staring at Brad's face, and in a deadpanned voice, “If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.”

Silence and then they all broke into barking laughter.

Barry slid up next to Wesker, nudging his arm, “So, Wesker, where’s your secret stash?”

Jerking away from the weapons expert, eyes sweeping the room to see if anyone was paying attention to their conversation, “What?!”

Barry grinned, “You know, your _secret stash_? I’m chilled to the bone. Could use a little… pick me up.”

Wesker breathed a sigh of relief. He had initially thought this was somehow going on a lewd route since Marini’s mustache had been Bravo’s flag, but then he caught the wink, “Well, what kind of captain would I be if I didn’t keep my team’s _spirits_ up for a job well done?”

Barry grinned, as did a few others who caught on.

Brad suddenly blurted as he caught sight of Wesker stepping out of his office with a large bottle of Baileys, “Oh snap! Getting our drink on!”

The office was a sudden loud roar of shushing as Wesker froze.

No one dared say anything as they shifted their gazes between Wesker and Brad, on edge as drinking during work hours was grounds for suspension.

Wesker straightened his back and proceeded to open the bottle, “Shut the fuck up, Vickers. Or I’ll let you take Chris’s place on triple duty.”

Brad immediately backed down, apologizing and cringing back, “No thanks. I’m good, Sir.”

Chris’s jaw dropped, not realizing Wesker was serious when threatening additional duties, “Aww, man! Really! You were being serious?! What the fuck!”

Unphased at the outburst, he poured enough into Barry’s proffered coffee cup to top off the piping hot coffee, “Quadruple it, Redfield.”

Chris’s mouth gaped but was silent as he stalked to his desk and immediately flopped into his chair, causing the legs to squeal, arms tightly crossed, sighing heavily as he glared at Wesker.

Wesker raised his shaded gaze to wait for another exasperated profanity-laced groan, but none came.

Smirking, Wesker stepped over to the brooding brunette and poured some Baileys into Chris’s empty mug, “So you do know when to stop. I’m impressed.”

Chris pouted like a toddler but picked up his mug nonetheless.

Wesker’s smirk turned into a genuine smile, “And… thank you for your sacrifice.”

Chris's face cracked and he grinned stupidly, rubbing his neck as he nervously accepted the praise. It was rare to see a true smile on his captain’s face. Standing and raising his mug, Chris cheered, “For the glory of Alpha Team!”

The office burst in cheers, clanking coffee mugs and Styrofoam cups.


End file.
